Learning How to Live
by graphitewarrior
Summary: Chapter 5 posted! / How do the Pikmin survive following the events of the first game? This will tell the story of a group of Pikmin who set the example: the Scouts. Multi-chaptered, OCs (Pikmin, of course). Will eventually detail some events in Pikmin 2.
1. Chapter 1

I

Some time ago, when even I wasn't even living, an alien creature on a journey through space was suddenly stopped in his path by an object of unimaginable size and struck down, crash-landing onto our planet. Panicking, he realized that the components of the mothership in which he was travelling were gone, but he only had thirty days to collect them before he succumbed to the poisons of the air. With the help of our race, he would return to his own planet and to his kind before his time ran out. With his help, we would finally become strong enough to survive on our own.

The story of this Great Commander, as we call him, has become integral in our society. Without his help, we wouldn't be living today. We would have never known how to defeat enemies without running away in fear, how to conquer different hazards that required different types of our kind—we had no idea before we watched him observe our qualities and put them to work. The Great Commander brought out the best in us. He also led to the establishment of the scouting group of which I am a part.

Of course, all stories have their beginnings. I like to listen to the way the one whom I trust the most, Spots, tells it. We were both "firsts"—I was the first of yellow color that the Great Commander met, he was the first ever. Meaning, of course, the first one to reenter the world following the eradication of our species. He was also the first one of our race to trust the Great Commander. Here is how he always likes to tell the origin story to the curious:

The Great Commander crash-landed in his mothership just after a mass genocide of our race. Climbing out of his broken, dented ship, he spotted the red mothership. It, knowing that there were no more reds, produced a single red seed. The red leaf waved to the Great Commander, and he was naturally curious about it. He reached for it and pulled it out of the ground. The resulting red stared at him, and he stared back, perplexed. The red listened to him talking to himself while looking at the red light on the top of what appeared to be his stem. What was that bright light? Spots was immediately compelled to it, and he did not protest with whatever the Great Commander wished to do after that. The light and several calls that the Great Commander emitted all attracted those of our society to him immediately, and we learned immediately to trust him, even in situations of danger. That's how we became involved with the life of the Great Commander.

There were times when Spots doubted the Great Commander, but he always saw that the Great Commander was guilty or remorseful following a failed mission or the loss of many lives. Spots could tell that he cared about our race, even though his primary goal was getting himself off of the planet.

We figured out the facts about the Great Commander starting when we noticed that he would always return to his mothership at the end of the day. We sometimes carried alien artifacts back to the ship, and the ship would look less beaten-up following our task. Once I noticed he was crossing off a list at the day's beginning. There were thirty spaces—I thought about it for a while before I realized it meant he only had thirty days to spend on the planet. And the poisonous air? Well, one day a red was curious and crept up behind the Great Commander, trying to move the orb surrounding his head to which the light and its stem were attached. The Great Commander did not notice at first, but he turned around and quickly shook his head, frowning. The red innocently stepped back and shrugged. He mentioned to a few yellows, including me, later, that he thought that the orb protected the Great Commander from the hazards of the planet. I put the pieces together and figured out the Great Commander's story before all the others.

Before all this happened, of course, I met the Great Commander, too.

I was sitting in the ground, the first seed to come out of the yellow mothership, when I was rudely plucked by a foreign body. He had a curious appearance and could not be one of our race, and as Spots described, I was drawn to the light immediately. I trusted him, too. Spots and I realized, more so than many others, that the Great Commander was doing something wonderful for us in the midst of his self-preservation. He was teaching us how to survive, too.

As I've said, that's what led to the scouts.

I met Spots on my third day of life. He and I both had flowers on our heads already and had been recruited to work as soldiers under the Great Commander. We were assigned to a piece of the mothership following a few intense battles against forest enemies and were next to each other while we carried the enormous alien hunk back to base camp. Our race has a great sense of direction, and we knew exactly where to go to return to the motherships. I'm not entirely sure, but I believe this is a skill granted to us when we are just seeds.

Spots said offhand to me, "Isn't this strange to you?"

"What?" I replied.

"All of a sudden, we gotta help some weird alien out and fix his mothership for him? That isn't weird at all to you?"

"I…I guess I never questioned it. Why?"

He turned to the right for a second, retaining his grip on the item. "I don't know. Just thinking. Ignore me if you want."

"Um…All right."

"I'm Spots."

"Rye."

"Okay. I've never talked to anyone other than a red."

"You're talking to a yellow right now."

"And she's talking to me. That's weird."

"What's up with you and things being weird?"

"It's a weird world, I guess." We had finally arrived back at base camp. He stared as the mothership sucked up the ship part.

"Do you think there are more of those aliens?" I whispered.

"Not here, at least," he said.

As our group of forty waited for the Great Commander to return, Spots and I strolled base camp and talked.

Spots said, "Do you like the Great Commander?"

"I dunno. I think he's very smart. I trust him. I think he likes our race. There's nothing much else to be said."

"Yeah. Why does his stem look like that?"

"I don't think it's a stem. There's no leaf, bud, or flower at the top. Besides, his stem would bend back if it were really a stem—it sticks straight up. Maybe it's something else. I don't care that much about what he looks like. There's no time to be inquisitive when you're learning so much."

"Slow down with the big words."

"Sorry. Did you get the point, though?"

He nodded. "You mean like, he's teaching us how to defeat enemies and get organized in groups?"

"Other things, too. How to explore, how to watch out for things, how to observe the land and dangers…"

"You're right. Definitely."

After I talked to Spots about the Great Commander, I thought about what he had been teaching us. If we could somehow establish a group to teach all of these habits and make leaders—if we could get groups trained in this way—it would be far easier for us to survive than before. Spots and I could do it. I could tell just from talking to him that he was aware of what the Great Commander was trying to teach us, even if he had asked the trite questions of what was on his head and why we were working for his sake. I resolved to ask Spots the next time I was able to get in touch with him.

It was just my luck that the next day Spots and I ended up at the head of the unit that the Great Commander took out. I secretly wondered if he recognized certain ones of us and picked us out on purpose. I hoped this thought was true and kept it to myself to make the work feel even lighter.

I tapped Spots in the back of the head. He turned around and looked at me, and I said my name so that he recognized me.

"What's going on?"

"I have an important idea to talk about with you."

"Just me? You just met me yesterday!"

"Well, I just met the Great Commander two days ago and I'm placing my life in his hands, and he's not even from our race."

He was quiet after that. I told him a short summary of my idea, and he was skeptical at first. "How's this going to help us?"

"Do you think the Great Commander is going to be here forever? Can we really survive without him? You were the first one back in the world after the extinction. You should know how dangerous it is for us."

He squinted and tapped his nose, continuing to follow the Great Commander. "You know, I guess I do kinda take him for granted, and I would have never thought of it that way if you wouldn't have said all this stuff about it."

"So do you want to set it up?"

"Yeah, we should."


	2. Chapter 2

II

Spots and I decided we had to create this organization immediately, but there was no way we were going to train all the others unless we trained ourselves first. Unfortunately, with the Great Commander's time schedule as rigid as it was, there were few opportunities. I started in a simple way. I began to take notes on everything I saw, just like I sometimes saw the Great Commander do. He was always muttering things to himself and saying alien things in his foreign language. Some of us were fascinated by it, including me. Others laughed every time they heard his deep, mumbling voice react to something that was new to him. I also knew it as the signal to mentally note something I would write about later. I tried not to take my journal everywhere with me, just because it was so cumbersome to carry around, especially after I got more pages of notes. Mostly, I wrote in it while I was in the mothership at night, getting about an hour to do so before I had to shut my eyes from exhaustion.

I became more observant than ever before. I even picked up some words that the Great Commander said. One day I heard him mumble something about the motherships, and I listened closer just in case he said it again. By doing so several times within the first days, I found out that he was referring to the motherships as "unyins," (which I later corrected the spelling of in my journal—it's really "Onions") and to our race as "Pikmin." The word was strange to say, and I wasn't sure whether to introduce others to it or not. I didn't even tell Spots that I had heard him give us a name.

Spots took a different approach. Whereas I was mostly observing what was going on around me and sometimes even mapping out the land or drawing enemies and creatures, he was more active. He fought zealously, forgetting that he himself had to survive. Fighting and working in groups were his strengths. I liked observing and wasn't really much for fighting. When I first noticed our different perspectives, I thought about how we could put them to use. I could teach theory, he could teach action, something like that, maybe.

Of course, we weren't just going to keep all of this knowledge to ourselves forever. Independently of each other, Spots and I decided to share it through actions and speech. Others became curious when they heard of our discoveries, and we began to be admired by some. Spots even passed around the story of his origin. He was looked up to by many of the newer reds because of it, although many did not believe him and still do not even to this day.

Spots and I took every opportunity we could to try and catch up with one another before we were frantically assigned to the next task. I would quickly scamper up inside the mothership and fetch my journal to show him, while he told me what he had learned through his fighting and carrying. In these few first days, one of the aspects of the organization on which we decided was the ranking system. We weren't sure at that time what feat or skill would allow one to climb to the next rank, but we did set up the ranks, the lowest being Seed, the highest, Ivy. We also agreed that one day we would try to tell the Great Commander all about it, but we didn't really know how we were going to catch his attention; we only knew that he should become privy to it because it had been inspired by him.

Our days were hectic, however, and before we knew it, we were setting off for the watery caverns in the middle of the forest. We had never seen water before, but our instincts tell us to stay away from it. Not so with the blues, whom the Great Commander would most likely soon be discovering. At last, he would be able to explore water using a group of blues and retrieve submerged portions of his mothership. I knew what this meant for Spots's and my little scouting organization. We would have to include a blue, and who better for the job than the first blue that the Great Commander plucked?

He took a group of us out exploring in the caverns and had us demolish a barrier. I turned away from my work to see where he was going. He had spotted the blue mothership and was headed in its direction. Sneaking out of the group beating on the barrier, I watched closely as he plucked the first blue seed and probably talked to himself about it. When I saw the Great Commander move back toward the now-demolished gate, I scurried back into the group. He called us back together and I snuck over toward the new recruit. He noticed me and asked, his voice wavering, "Who or what is that?" and looking in the Great Commander's direction.

"It's okay," I reassured the distressed soul. "He needs our help."

"Why?" The blue looked incredibly nervous. I had never before seen so much anxiety.

"His mothership crashed and he needs to find its parts."

"Do you know where he's from? How do you know he's not some weird kind of enemy?"

"I've been here a few days already. Don't worry, he cares about us. Besides, we needed the help getting organized."

"Oh," he responded, watching as the Great Commander walked among the shoreline in the cavern in front of us. He began to set a group to work on a few bundles of sticks, hoping to make a bridge to get to a stranded mothership part. I was included. I watched as the blue was taken away. I wondered if he would be able to find me tomorrow, especially since I hadn't had the chance to introduce myself.

Luckily, the group was reunited close to sunset, as the Great Commander returned with more blues in tow. I recognized the original blue, his leaf from birth still present at the top of his stem. I quickly rejoined him and introduced myself by name, telling him we had met earlier. He realized who I was and told me, "You were right, Rye. He is what you said he is. But I'm still kind of scared."

"You can be scared about it. After all, fighting all these enemies, building bridges, beating down barriers, and carrying parts around is very stressful, and we are putting all of our trust in him to take us wherever. We should be scared."

"I agree."

Before I forgot to do so, I decided to ask him his name.

"Whistle."

"If you see me tomorrow, then, I have a question for you," I quickly told him as we departed to our respective motherships. He waved goodbye in return. I wondered why he seemed so anxious about everything. He was questioning everything, but not in the same way other ones did. Instead of being overly curious about the Great Commander's origins and appearance, he was afraid that the Great Commander would suddenly turn on us and decide to wipe out our race. I guessed it was just part of his nature to be anxious and question things. Maybe it was something that had to do with blues, or maybe because he was the first of his kind. I decided to save the question until I had told Spots my idea. Perhaps we would even be able to see if the new one was worth accepting into our private little group.

Spots liked the idea, and he especially appreciated that I had chosen the first one of the blues, just as we were the first of our kind. We also agreed to observe him at work when we could. It was easy to tell where Whistle was since he was one of the only ones with a leaf on his stem and because he also occasionally shivered with anxiety. I noticed that although he was nervous and doubtful about the whole scheme, he still did the work he was assigned with valor and passion. Spots didn't perceive this, but I did: the blue was also beginning to warm up to the Great Commander. I noticed, too, that the Great Commander had begun to look upon us not just out of amazement, but also of fondness. He really did care about us. That was how I saw it.

We finally got our chance to ask the question once the Great Commander left the three of us in a group working on returning a downed enemy to base camp. With Whistle stuck between us in the circle, we both tried to tell him about scouting at once. "Not so fast!" I whispered. "Don't overwhelm him!"

"Well, d'you wanna tell him about it, and I'll ask him if he likes the idea?"

I nodded and told Whistle about scouting. Of course, his immediate response was, "Why do we need it if we have the Great Commander?"

"Do you think he's going to be here forever?" I said.

He was silent. Then he said, quietly, "I guess I never really thought about him leaving. I'll join you two."

It was settled. We had three members now, one for each kind of our race. We thought that there might be other kinds elsewhere, but we were ignorant of these at the time. Besides, we had to focus on learning how to survive and be aware of the world around us.


	3. Chapter 3

III

One day, Spots and I were left behind at base camp when the Great Commander took a group of blues out exploring for a missing part at the lakes, the newest area which he had discovered. We secretly slid out of the motherships—although we were really supposed to stay and wait until the Great Commander called us out—but we decided that we wanted to explore the lakes. The lakes covered an incredibly large area, after all, and we had nothing else to do that day.

I had never seen so much water in my life. A non-blue's natural instinct upon seeing water is to attempt to avoid it or to recoil in horror, but I was fascinated by the dangerous foes swimming around in the water and the reedy plants at the water's edge. There were small caves that looked like tree stumps near the edges of the water. We snuck around and stared at the enemies inside. From a distance, we noted a large, black, winged enemy tottering around in one of the elevated caves. Spots recognized it from the forest. During an exploration in which I had not taken part, Spots and other reds fought the large black enemy, which he said spit out large rocks and hid its weak point under its shell. That vulnerability could only be exposed when something was thrown into the hole from whence the rocks came. My journal in tow, I was able to take notes on how to defeat the gigantic foe and even drew an image of it.

When we were passing by a few small spotted little creatures, the offspring of the large spotted creatures that often prey on our race, he had another tip to tell me: there was a weak spot in the middle of their backs which, if landed on, would knock them out instantly. I flipped the pages of my journal back to where I had taken notes on those particular enemies and added this information. "We're a good team," I said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, I take all the notes and write down everything I see. And you find things out that I don't know because you're more…action-oriented."

"You fight, too."

"I wouldn't be doing it if it weren't required by the Great Commander. And you don't take notes, do you?"

"You've got a point there. What's wrong with fighting, though? I think the best way to learn how to survive is to learn how to fight."

"I would just rather sit around and take notes on things. I could watch that reed over there grow for a whole day if I had the time, and I would probably be greatly entertained."

He said nothing and instead squinted at one of the caves. "There's one across the water," he said suddenly. "I think the Great Commander is over there." We walked back over to the water's edge to look at what was going on. Next to that cave, the Great Commander had assigned a group of blues to roll out a bundle of twigs for a bridge. We didn't see him, but we saw a group of blues far beyond in the water. They were probably carrying something or fighting a creature under the Great Commander's direction. I stared out farther for a while until I heard Spots say worriedly, "What's going on over there?"

I was confused by his concern. "The Great Commander's out there. They should be fine."

"No, look at me and then look where I am."

I turned around to look at him. He was looking where the small spotted enemies had been. Two of them had been downed earlier. The third one was being beaten up by a small group of blues, and there was a blue inside its jaws. As soon as I noticed what was going on, the creature had succumbed to the onslaught and had fallen on its back. The blue that had experienced a brush with death now climbed out of the enemy's mouth and sunk to the ground, fainting. Before that happened, I noticed that there was a leaf on the blue's stem.

"Is that Whistle?!" I cried.

"We'd better go see what's going on over there. Come on." Spots determinedly avoided any other living dangers, sneaking over to where the group of blues had attacked the spotted foe. At the head of the mixed group of nine blues, there was a frustrated-looking one with a bud on its stem. There was an adventurous yet unfriendly light in his eyes. We both suspected that this one was responsible for the group of rogue adventurers.

"Why did you come out here like this without permission from the Great Commander?" asked Spots, maybe a bit too harshly. "You could have been eaten, all of you, or stomped on or—something!"

The leader narrowed his eyes and laughed brashly. "What makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do, anyways? What makes the one with the light on his head think he can just throw me around and do whatever he wants to me? Why should I trust anyone but myself?"

Spots was horrified. This viewpoint was very difficult for those of our race to understand and was very rare. Although each of us are individuals, there is an interdependence that comes with being one of our race. We depend on each other for advice and help and everyday life, even. It's uncommon to want to disobey the mission of our lives as we were seeing with this one. "You can't be serious about this," Spots said, looking at the rest of the small group for help. It was clear, at least to me, that they were afraid to say anything, for at the moment they were depending on this rebel to deliver their daily advice and help, this rebellious bud.

"I'm serious, all right. I should be serious about only trusting my own judgment when I was the only one who realized that this kid here was in trouble. I saved his life, and I don't even get a thank you from him. Our race is disgusting."

Spots visibly winced, although I kept my composure. I was interested in what he had to say, because he had saved Whistle's life. I looked at Whistle and watched him regain consciousness. "What happened? I'm not d-dead, am I?"

"It _is_ you," Spots said quietly, as he looked on in consternation and horror. Whistle's eyes widened, too, once he recognized us. Before he connected us to the incident, I quickly cut in with:

"This group over here saved your life." I think Spots was disgusted when I said that, but it didn't matter—the band of blues needed to be credited. Their rebel leader looked proud. His eyes lit up. Whistle looked on the leader with admiration.

"Who _are_ you?"

When the leader didn't respond and instead just stared, I said, "That's—that's…Rebellious Bud."

"That's right," he said, grinning. I had expected him to just laugh at my weak attempt to give a name to his feats, but he gladly accepted it. I wondered if he had even had a name before all of this happened, as there were many of our race who went unnamed.

Whistle looked at Spots and me, and then at the rebel leader. "Uh, I don't have much to give in return, but I really think that—"

"Oh, no thanks needed, no rewards. I won't accept a—"

"—you should join Spots and Rye and me in this—"

"Like I said before, I refu—"

"—in the scouting program. I think it would—"

"I don't want to be a par—"

"—benefit you and the rest of us, since you have such—"

"I'm seri—"

"—talent." Hearing that word inflated the rebel's ego even more, although Whistle didn't mind. He had decided on this gesture as a means of thanks to Rebellious Bud for saving his life. Now that Whistle had flattered him, he hoped that the rebel would join us, but we weren't sure what position he would get or what talents he would be able to contribute aside from being skilled at fighting and, evidently, having a predisposition for leadership.

Rebellious Bud nodded. "I would be more than glad to be a part of this program, whatever it is."

"All right," I interjected before anyone else spoke. "I can tell you what it's all about. We ought to walk over there"—I pointed to a hidden niche near base camp that was across from the mothership of the Great Commander—"so that we'll have the time to get you caught up before the day's end, and we can just go right back to base camp. If we stay out in the open, the Great Commander will find us and put us to work, especially you two blue ones."

He agreed to this proposition. Whistle and I thanked the remaining small group of blues, and they decided that they would return straight to the mothership until the Great Commander needed them. The four of us snuck over to the small alcove, and I commenced discussion with Rebellious Bud. I told him the reasons for scouting and decided that he would be best-suited as Whistle's second-in-command, but also as one who would learn from Whistle and advise him. Spots and I named this particular postion "deputy."

Rebellious Bud did not adjust to his new life well at first. If one of us were to initiate discussion with him, he would be uncomfortable and try to seem as if he were independent. He tried to stay on his own and just fight enemies for the Great Commander, but he kept getting interrupted by one of us three near the end of the day. He also wasn't very skilled in any realm except fighting with brute force, and he got frustrated with us trying to teach him advanced techniques and strategy. It was Whistle, however, who really knew how to deal with Rebellious Bud. They would have longer conversations than any of us, about emotions and how Whistle could control his anxiety and Rebellious Bud, his anger. Each of them seemed to have a calming effect on the other, despite that they were so moody. They became closer to each other than even Spots and I, and they worked well together as a team.

I was just wondering how we were going to find a similar teammate with whom Spots could team up.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

Others were beginning to notice Spots, Whistle, and I observing and talking amongst ourselves and were becoming curious about us. Somehow, although not one of us looked different from any other one of our race, our dedication to learning more about our environment and how to live in it was turning up more and more in the daily small talk. In fact, some were even trying to live like we were and wanted to learn more about how to deal with the dangers of everyday life. This led to Spots and I seriously considering beginning teaching sessions for soldiers.

"How will a regular soldier be able to tell any of us apart from the one next to him? I mean, why should they trust us if we just look like—a _nobody_?" Spots whispered to me as we were on the move the next day. The Great Commander had left the lakes and had returned to the small area in which he had first arrived. There was another part to retrieve here.

I was picked up and thrown right after he asked me that question, however. I had to help demolish a hard gate. I threw the explosive I was holding at it, the gate shook, and I returned to the group. "I don't know. I thought that just our voices would be enough."

"I have trouble telling your voice apart from other yellows, though."

"Huh. Might be because we yellows have better hearing."

"Was that a joke?"

"…Actually, no. I can easily tell Whistle and Rebellious Bud's voices from others who look just like them. And if you don't know what my voice sounds like, then how do you find me when we're in a group together?"

"You're usually near the front, or you come and find me."

I rolled my eyes. "Anyways, this wasn't the point of the conversation."

"Oh. Sorry. Well, I dunno, maybe we can like… take a piece out of our flowers or leaves?"

I recoiled in shock. "Spots! That's painful, you know!"

"It's not that bad. But wouldn't it, like, be symbolic of what we're willing to go through to be able to survive on our own?"

"You've got a point." We fell silent after that.

The Great Commander used the rest of the time during the day to increase our numbers. I was able to escape to the yellow mothership and sneak inside so that I could write in my journal. Before I began writing, however, I decided to look at some of my notes and drawings. I had drawn a few images of reeds and taller plant life and how they could easily be used as vantage points to spot enemies. There were some grasses that, after they dried, boasted bunches of seeds in a head. The seeds would disperse either by way of strong winds or by way of a creature eating them.

I realized suddenly that there was not much point in differentiating ourselves from the rest of our race. Just like each seed in the head of those plants, we had as much chance of looking like an appetizing meal or something to be crushed as others did. I decided to share this revelation with Spots tomorrow.

"We've got to stay inconspicuous," I told him when we set out the next morning at the lakes.

"Incons-what now?"

"We have to look the same as everyone else," I said, sighing.

"Okay, I get what you mean. …But why?"

"It doesn't matter—all of us will eventually fall prey to some creature. If we try to differentiate ourselves, there might be a higher chance of death."

Spots nodded silently and continued walking alongside me.

As I was working that day, I snuck my way into a group of reds under the Great Commander, who were up against that huge black hulking creature that Spots had faced before. I partly wanted to observe them and try to find a partner for Spots, but I also wanted the opportunity to train myself in combat techniques, especially since I already knew how to fight this particular enemy. Once we had defeated the foe, a red with a bud on its head walked up to me. There was a young, innocent look about it, and its face looked softer than the usual soldier. Its hands were shaking slightly.

"Are you Rye? The one that works with the scouts?" Its voice was trembling, high.

"Yes, it is me. I'm the highest-ranked of them."

"I—I've heard everything about you. I'm Pumpkin. I would love to be a part of your group. But if it's too elite for just a soldier like me, uh, don't worry. S-sorry for bothering you." She seemed extremely nervous about talking to me, but not in the same way that Whistle had been. Whereas Whistle was just anxious in general about most things, she only seemed somewhat intimidated by me. Had we really become that well-known among our race?

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not of a superior kind," I reassured her. "We just appointed a new deputy. Seems like you're pretty good at fighting. You can be Spots's second-in-command, and we'll start teaching you how to survive this planet right away."

She placed her hands on the side of her face. "I'm… so…. honored…"

"As soon as our work here is done, I can take you to meet Spots." Once the enemy was defeated—I had made sure to try and spread around the word of how to expose its weak point—we carried a part back to base camp. Spots was there in a separate group. Seeing that the Great Commander was leaving to do another task, I took Pumpkin over to meet Spots.

"I have your deputy, Spots," I said.

"You found me one that quickly? What about yours?"

"I don't know. We can address that later. But this red here—she really wants to be a part of the scouts, and it seems like she is a great fighter." I waited for her to introduce herself, but when I looked over, I saw that her pupils had grown to an astronomical size. She had her hands on the sides of her face again and wouldn't speak, her body turned vaguely paler. I wasn't sure why she was behaving this way; it was probably just the shock of meeting such an idol, and one of her same color, too. "Her name is Pumpkin." I whispered to him, "I think she's a bit nervous about meeting us."

"It's great to have you," Spots affirmed. "I'm looking forward to teaching you." At this point, the female couldn't stand to be around us any longer. She ran off, squealing with delight. Spots said, "I think we made her day."

I had my suspicions otherwise. "_You_ made her day."

"But you did too." I had to turn away and laugh.

"She's in love, Spots. With you."

"I don't get what you're saying."

I rolled my eyes. "You know, when you want to spend a lot of time with the other one, when you hug them and hold their hand."

"…Nah, I don't see what you're talking about."

"I don't think it matters that much anyways. Come on. I've got to tell you about the enemy we just fought. Your knowledge came in handy."

So Pumpkin became a part of our group. We would not have any new members for quite a long time, but then again, we never actively recruited everyone. By the time she had joined us, the Great Commander was already preparing to leave the planet soon. His mothership had gained more parts and appeared shinier—as new as it must have been before it fell from the atmosphere.

That afternoon, I informed Spots, "We've got to work even harder to survive now."

We met regularly at base camp when possible, teaching each other how to survive in water and in land, against enemies and at dusk. We would take groups of soldiers and educate them on the best techniques to use to hide or to defeat certain enemies. As I was lecturing a group of twenty one day on the best way to defeat a large, black-and-red, spotted creature, one such creature walked by us. One yellow recoiled and clutched its arms to its chest. Some covered their eyes. Others screamed softly.

I said, "Be not afraid. Our purpose is to fight. What have we just learned?"

One red said, his speech level and calm, "Attack the back, away from the legs. Get back up when it shakes, or get eaten."

"That's just it. Come on. Let me see you all fight! I'm coming along!" We ran up to the creature and launched ourselves onto its back, being wary of its back vibrating. All of us were conditioned to be afraid of that creature and its giant, throbbing lips, its shiny white fangs like piercing, blinding light—yet we were not afraid to march straight into battle with the grim shadow of death hanging over us. When we had downed the creature, I counted only two missing—two casualties. The young troops were improving. Last time, there had been six killed in action. Perhaps next time there would be none.

At the edge of one of the lakes, Whistle and Rebellious Bud were teaching water combat. Spots was holding a class similar to mine. Pumpkin's was on surveying. Like me, she was particularly interested in the area around her and how to map it out. Although she had initially been in love with the idea of scouting and the ones of her race at the head of the operation, she was now dedicated to finding out how best to survive on the planet and how to teach others.

We were becoming better. We were learning how to live.


	5. Chapter 5

V

The climactic battle against the green, ugly, drooling behemoth and its devastatingly large, destructive tongue resulted in the loss of many lives in our race. I had never seen the Great Commander look so guilty in my life, especially since he would presumably be leaving the planet now. He was so emotionally exhausted, his head hanging to the ground as he returned to base camp with me, Spots, and a diminished group of reds and yellows, that he left the collection of the final part of his ship until the next day.

I sat in the mothership that evening and tried to stay away from the other yellows. My body felt cold; I was on edge. Something was not right with me, but I wasn't troubled to figure it out. I didn't want to socialize with anyone; in a time that I should have felt happy for the Great Commander, I didn't really know what to feel.

Everyone felt safe and at home when they saw that familiar glowing red beam on the top of the orb covering his head. His face was odd, with slanted eyes and an oversized nose, and large, pointy ears just like my own. He was a whimsical little foreigner. I'm sure he must have thought the same of us.

On the plus side, our classes had been getting better. They had been compacted into a small amount of time, but just by leading by example, others had learned from us and a chain reaction had been started. This was the way to go. We had to begin a movement, start something that would be beneficial.

Still, my body shivered, cold and insignificant in the vast expanse of the planet. The stars laughed jarringly from outside the mothership; I recalled the Great Commander panting as he walked purposefully in front of a group of us; I fondly remembered his elated jump as his own mothership began to return to its previous condition; I envisioned his ship flying high, high, far away to a place where none of any of us even mattered, where others knew him, where other strange creatures of his race dwelt and spoke in a language with no meaning or sense.

I looked at my journal with foggy eyes. About six days ago, I had made a strap for it so that I could carry it wherever I went, as long as I was not engaged in combat. I had never used it to write anything personal. It was full of suggestions and strategies, drawings and diagrams. I opened it to a page near the back and started to write. The words entered the page easily from my hand, as the bud becomes a flower in the bright sun, simply, beautifully, and naturally. I paid no mind to the soft sounds of sleep and continued to write. I ignored my exhaustion. My seriousness and attention to detail had repressed my emotions for far too long, and I ended up writing two full pages, front-to-back, of everything I felt. I started mentally reading it to myself as soon as I wrote it. My eyes felt moist again.

_I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going or what I want to do. I don't know if what I'm doing is right. There's no way to know. I wasn't alive when it happened before, so how do I know that it'll just go back to the way it was before? Will I ever see the Great Commander again? Why did he have to leave? Even if he did do so much for us, why do we HAVE to lose him? Spots is the one I'm closest to, but I feel the deepest kind of emotion and respect for the Great Commander. He saved us. He is wonderful. He is deserving of all of our praise and worship. He inspired this movement. I can't stand to see him go. I can't do it. I can't, I just can't. I don't know how I'll make it. I don't know why I'm being so selfish, because everyone needs him._

I stopped reading and closed the journal. There was no reason to read any further; I knew it was just more of the same. It felt good do something for myself, but the survival of our race was far more important. We had to live. We had to make the Great Commander proud. _I_ had to make him proud.

The next morning, the Great Commander waved farewell to us.

In his honor, a small group attacked a red-and-white spotted creature at dusk and defeated it. All of the scouts were part of this group.

And so it began. Launching into orbit at night with a feeling of dread accompanying the safety, the loss of purpose and drive in our lives returned.


End file.
